Session 2-1: Pilgrims in an Unholy Land
Activity Log - A place no mortal should tread
General Summary
It has been six weeks since the fires from Stryxis's acolytes, including Ian Becker, raged through the city in their attempt to summon their dread god. We are at the cemetery attending Trevor’s funeral with Dayne Reed. Few people have attended, among them Isolde Tremaris and his son Loras, who has traveled to Ghal Pelor to deal with Trevor’s affairs. After the casket is buried, we see Dayne and Loras off to the side, arguing intensely. Uncle does have that effect on people as, like Isolde, he blames him for his father’s death (perhaps somewhat unfairly). I decided to wait some time before reaching out to Loras to discuss his father’s business. Isolde approaches the four of us afterwards, and, despite her silent grieving during the ceremony, is eager to offer us a chance to training briefly at Arcane Bindings on methods of using manacite beyond just powering spellcasting at base. She seemed like she wanted a chance to forget for a moment the death of her friend, so we agreed. At Arcane Bindings, she hands us several pieces of manacite and, with the aid of small, wind-up mechanical teeth she calls Chatterboxes, trains us in how to overcharge our spells, infuse our weapons with the power of the stone’s energy, invigorate our stamina and repel energy. It is all very useful knowledge, though as expected, it is Tea Kettle and Cojitron that excels with using manacite while I am bitten several times due to my meager magic abilities and Horick takes the opportunity to hurl his energy infused hammers into her walls and floors targeting the chatterboxes. By the end, I assume Isolde slightly regrets her offer to us. A friend of hers named Ylva Vilulf was visiting the shop that day (who unlike Isolde is very gregarious), and took great amusement watching the proceedings. Afterwards, we receive a message from Uncle Dayne asking us to return to his office; he has received more work for us. We warily make our way there; though it has been relatively quiet since the fires and the incident on the Prospero weeks ago, we now knew that these jobs always were more than meets the eye. Once there, Dayne gives us a new letter, saying that it could be a lucrative investment. The letter is from a Tengu named Timepiece, someone that TK has some passing familiarity with as a particularly eccentric member of their clan (which…is saying something). She wishes to open a magic store she is calling “The Very Safe Magic Store” near Croikoyle, and claims that the building she has rented is occupied by squatters. She wishes us to shoo them away so she can move in. In return she promises to give us a significant discount on her wares and services. It seemed simple enough. We were experienced enough to know there was likely a catch. It is midday as we arrive at the building. It is a two story affair, and looks to have not been (legally) occupied in some time given the slight disrepair it looked to be in. Outside we can see several squatters celebrating with carts of pumpkins and apples, steins of cider in their hands. It is autumn now, and TK of all people remarks as we approach that they are observing the Apple Festival, an important ritual dating back to the days of the Fae. Some memory of this comes to mind from my father’s writings. Horick spits upon hearing this, cursing the name of The Autumn Queen. The fae is understandably a sore topic among most, particularly the long lived races. Out of sight of the squatters, I change my clothes to match the shabbiness of the revelers and approach them, signaling to the others to follow my lead after I get in good with them. They welcome me as I come asking what they are celebrating. They are surprisingly forthright and tell me about the Apple Festival. They welcome me inside, where I am handed a mug of cider from a cauldron. The inside of the building is adorned with carved pumpkins and other decorations; around thirty squatters littered the room making merry. From my conversations I find that they have been here for three days now holding this festival. While I hobnob with the revelers, two young boys in butterfly masks approach me and begin to howl. Even after a couple months I would recognize the sound anywhere, and as they take off their masks I recognize the ex-Throat Wolves Good and Bad Bill. After exchanging the club handshake I ask what they’re doing here, and they both say that Good Bill’s father is the one that organized this Apple Festival Celebration. Bad Bill cruelly mocks Good Bill’s parents for being “loonies”, and the latter admits that they are very much followers of the fae, revering them even. Intrigued, I ask to be taken to speak to him, which he agrees to. Not long later, the other three follow me inside and are similarly welcomed into the festivities. Horick discovers that the cider being served has some mild hallucinogens added to it for some extra revelry. He very strangely spikes the cauldron with drops of potion of gaseous form and some other oddities, which causes some of the squatters to phase in and out and creating a slight commotion, much to his amusement. They eventually spot the Bills leading me to his father, and I wave them over when I see them. Good Bill’s father is a rather ordinary looking man named Paris Philadare. He claims that he has organized this festival to honor the Autumn Queen and her court, and found this empty building to do it in not knowing that someone had rented it for their business. I ask how much longer until they would be finished, and Paris answered they were meant to complete their festival within a day or two, but that something unexpected had happened; Savilla, Bill’s mother and his wife, had gone missing attempting to traverse The Black Road. Keeping Horick’s scowls from scaring him off, I prod further and discover that the two of them are Autumn Queen and Shadow Court sympathizers, which was a bold thing to admit to nowadays. I knew only the stories I heard as a child from my parents, and though she was a fae in exile as well, I cared little for where she came from and more for what she is. Paris and Savilla were attempting to contact friendly fae and the latter, being a skilled magic user of some kind, opened a portal to what they believed to be their realm and entered it. She disappeared and though the gate remained, she never returned. Paris in his desperation attempted to use the runes she created to contact her but to no avail; he had little magical skill himself. For Good Bill’s sake and to keep Bad Bill from mocking his friend’s predicament, I offer our skills in tracking her down through the gate, which he says has but hours left remaining before it closes for good, in exchange for them leaving the building to its new renter and not coming back. Paris claimed not to be their leader but surely they would follow his example. He agreed to these terms. The four of us followed Paris and the Bills to the park, where the ritual had been made, to find a secluded area wherein Paris withdrew a black candle and lit it, powering the Rite of Heat’s Flames ritual Savilla made that would guide us once through the gate. Paris said that once the candle ran down was when the gate would close. Judging from the candle, we had but six hours remaining. The gate became visible as an open door atop a flight of stairs that looked as if a window would into a dark, foreboding realm where a black brick road stretched into the distance surrounded on both sides by a menacing wood. We knew that someone had to stay back and watch the portal to keep it safe. Cojitron volunteered to retrieve the dark elf Phyrae from the Grand Temple and, after she returned with her, mentioned that the priests there have asked that she not come back; we would have to settle the issue of finding her a way home later. Phyrae still was difficult to communicate with but she understood the gist of her task, and, with the Bills, stood guard at the entrance. The four of us crossed into the Black Road, holding the candle to light the way. Paris warned us that though the candle was meant to direct us towards what we wished to find, it also had a mind of its own and could lie to us. He also told us that the rule was no violence could be done on the road under pain of severe penalty, and to stay upon it if we wished to remain safe. Finding ourselves in a dark dreaming realm, we begin to follow the road forward, led by the flame of the candle pointing the way. The dark road spread far into the distance without end, surrounded on all sides by bleak woods too dense to see into. Several minutes of travel later, with Cojitron carrying the candle, we find a swinging, hanged corpse in the middle of the road. Its skin had been flayed and blood pooled beneath it. Remaining on the road, we do our best to skirt around this gruesome scene and continue on. Not too much longer still, we begin to hear voices coming from all directions, harsh whispers making promises if we follow them. Though distracting, they do not deter us from leaving the path. Further still, we spot a group of a dozen people shambling towards us, alight with an eerie fire, reminiscent of the flames caused by the Queen’s Rebuke when magic is cast without the aid of manacite. These were a group called the Burning Petitioners, scorched by the rebuke. We put up our guard, though it seemed that they were relatively harmless and, though clearly in great pain, stopped to talk to us, asking to make a trade to ease the fire from them in exchange for their help. If we could take the flames from them, they would help us find Savilla as they have been cursed to burn and travel the road, and have been since the rebuke, without the respite of true death. It sent a chill down my spine. Conferring with each other, naturally unwilling to suffer such torment without end, we ask if objects could hold the fire, and offer the mask of the bishop of Stryxis. One of them takes it and, perhaps because of the magic inherent in it, is able to take hold of the fire, leaving one of them free from its painful grasp. In exchange, they tell us that Savilla had been here looking for one of the golden apples of the Autumn Queen, and was now in the possession of someone called the Raven Man. To regain her, we would have to best him in combat. Satisfied, they continue their pilgrimage. A couple hours have passed since we arrived here, and the road does not get any easier to traverse, though the flame of the candle holds its position steadily. We hear a voice from beside us and find a small pixie attempting to wave us over. The pixie, Alayla, asks to invite her onto the road, and offers information in exchange for it. The majority of us do not trust someone attempting to be invited onto the road, and Horick in particular threatens violence before he would allow a fae to our side. She is shooed away, though she vows that she wants onto the road and continues to try and tempt us, promising she has only honest intentions. Another hour passes as we travel in silence, periodically ensuring that the flame remains “honest”. Ahead of us, we spot movement; shadows lurking, approaching us, until we realize that they are drawn to the black candle Cojitron is carrying and its promise of escaping this realm, the Candle Seekers. We flee before they can overwhelm us, as the further away we are, the less they are able to take form. They momentarily surround Cojitron but we force them back and help them along, and eventually they disappear into the distance behind us, dissipating and lost once again. Not much longer after our harrowing pursuit, we spot a very large figure to the side, that has taken the form of an immense and foreboding black stag. Though TK attempts to communicate with it out of curiosity, it responds not at all, though it seemed to be waiting as if wanting a sacrifice from us. Everything in this cursed realm only sought to exact a high price. The flame of the candle sways in its direction off the road, and it takes some effort and some harsh threats from Horick to regain control over it. We moved around and it paid us no more heed. Our discipline thus far in avoiding the dangers of the road was strong, but we seemed to be getting no closer to the cathedral that the Raven Man resided in. Almost on cue, Alayla reappeared and continued to badger us to allow her on the road. Noting our candle burning down, we decided after some serious discussion that we needed to make better time as the journey could cost us our ability to return home even if we do rescue Savilla. I negotiate with Alayla that if she allows us to magically influence her to ensure she is trustworthy, we could have her on the road. She agrees and I cast one of the few spells I know to charm her to our side. Hoping that such a thing worked, she agrees to our terms and in exchange for her help, she will be safely brought to our world as she wished to escape this dimension, as it is too dangerous even for her. Asking how we can reach the cathedral faster, she suggests summoning one of the denizens of the realm to aid us in exchange for something for them. After rattling off multiple suggestions, including the Black Stag, we decide that something she calls the Heart Estate could aid us in exchange for “food”. Drawing a protective circle, Cojitron powers a summoning spell while I laid the fritters we received earlier within. My inexperience for dealing with such creatures came at a painful cost, as while they took the food we offered, it was not enough and they pulled from me, the only flesh and blood entity within the circle at the time after Cojitron drew it, a pound from my body. The pain was momentarily excruciating, and I fell out of the circle, fortunately with my friends acting swiftly enough to administer magical healing to staunch the internal bleeding. That seemed to sate whatever it was that was summoned and the road shifted before us, showing us a large building before us off the side of the road. This must be the cathedral. We enter the cathedral cautiously and, under an apple tree within the building, find a sleeping woman that must be Savilla based on Paris’s description. As we move towards her, a flock of ravens enter and a being that could only be the Raven Man appears. We ask to take Savilla with us, but, ever the faithful servant of the Autumn Queen, pronounces her guilty of trying to steal a golden apple. However, he is willing to wager her in a contest with him. Not liking our chances in combat, and, seeming to enjoy games himself, offers us two contests where we must offer one of our own as collateral. Feeling a little guilty, we offer Alayla, who has no qualms of being the ante, so I suppose the spell must have worked. Satisfied, The Raven Man chooses one of the contests, a game of Seeming. I choose a performance, a play. The question arises as to what topic and who the audience is. I allow him the choice of topic if we get to choose the audience. He chose the crowning of the Autumn Queen, which none of us have any idea what transpired in such a far off event, and after running through options with Alayla as to what dark denizens could possibly be impartial enough to be the judges, landed on a race of small miners called the ***Brignanocks. Summoning them to the Cathedral, they arrived with their gear, somewhat nonplussed that they were called away from their jobs. They seemed to be quite industrious and serious about their work, to the extent that, according to Alayla, who translated for us, they have formed unions amongst their kind to ensure equity and protection on all sides. That at least made them relatable in some abstract way to us. In exchange for the hefty price of 150 aurins, they agree to judge the performance contest. They sit, making odd and vaguely grumpy noises. The Raven Man opts to go first, which I internally take relief in. Seeing how he will approach this performance will give me some insight into how to approach it. Aided by his ravens, he proceeds to give a rather masterful reenactment of the Autumn Queen’s coronation speech. There is a clear reverence to the way he approaches the event, and it is obvious he holds her in high regard as a loyal subject. It would be difficult to best him from a dramatic angle. I study the Briganocks and find that they grudgingly respect the Raven Man’s performance and give a loud applause, but something in their demeanor suggests that they do not share his reverence for the Queen. As he yields the stage to me, I gather the others around and give them quick instructions and to follow my lead. Contrary to the Raven Man’s somber and powerful coronation, I present the events as a farce, including as much physical comedy and pratfalls and, with Horick’s help, flatulent humor. My queen stumbles over her words and makes double entendres that are meant to be unintentional. As the proverbial curtain falls I trip over Cojitron and end the performance. I owe much to my daily observance of the mummers in the city streets. Just as I’d hoped, the Briganocks eat it up, hooting and hollering during the performance. Though the applause is just slightly louder than for the Raven Man, it is enough. He concedes the first contest, commenting that it was not the approach he would’ve taken. The first rule of storytelling; know thy audience. The second contest begins in earnest, and the Raven Man, offering but the barest instruction, begins the seeming game with “I am red”. We answer with apples. On our turn, we add to it, which the Raven Man responds with an answer befitting the conditions. It becomes quickly treacherous as we go deeper and more abstract. Horick, to my surprise, is up to the task. It seems he is not unfamiliar with this game somehow. Eventually, it comes down to a string so long that Horick’s thoughts turn to the clay beneath Uncle Dayne’s building being precious enough to sculpt with. The ravens squawk around their master, but somehow, he concedes the seeming game, unable to produce a counter response that fits the dozen or so conditions that have built up. Giving a bow, he grants us Savilla’s freedom, and vanishes with his Ravens. We check Savilla and though she remains unconscious, she is alive. As we move to carry her away from the cathedral, a chill suddenly surrounds us. Spectral jack-o-lanterns appear and the road behind us begins to vanish. Alayla warns us that our stunt has drawn the attention of the The Autumn King, and he is not pleased by our disrespect. A galloping is heard in the distance, and heeding the pixie’s warning, we run, forcing the candle to guide us back to our portal home. The candle flame, if such a thing were possible, seemed petrified, but we managed to keep it honed on our target and move, with Horick carrying Savilla. In no time, the figure following us comes into view, a dread rider with a lantern for a head, one of the Autumn King’s knights. A foe, Alayla wastes no time telling us, that is beyond our ability to best. We flee, knowing our time grows short as well, and Cojitron and TK frantically manipulate the ritual to have it find a portal and after much intimidation, points us in the direction of one even as the road continues to fall away at the fast approach of the knight. The door, however, does not match our own, and so Horick threatens the flame again while the others cast spells to impede our pursuer’s progress. Webs are hurled and catch him fast, but he quickly breaks free. Horick successfully forces the flame to find our portal and, seeing it within sight, we make for the door. Cojitron is nearly cut off by the rider, but we succeed in throwing it off balance with more spells in the nick of time without violating the violence rule of the road, and somehow manage to beat it through the door right before it can regain its footing and capture us. On the other side, Paris, the Bills and Phyrae await, and the candle flame is extinguished, removing the door. We return Savilla, suggesting that Paris take her to see the only cleric with any possible power, Svala, at the grand temple, to look her over. And as promised, he and the others will abandon the store that TimePiece has rented. Before he leaves, I caution Good Bill to keep an eye on his parents; whatever rituals and strange beliefs drove them, it could be dangerous as it nearly cost him his own mother, and the fae were the mere tip of the spear. He agreed that his parents were strange and promised to watch out for them. With that settled, we returned to the office with Phyrae in tow, unsure as to what to do with her next; perhaps, at least, teach her the Balmoran tongue so she can communicate that to us herself. I know little of what transpired today, only even the darkest histories of my father’s research or her stories from her fantastic book could not have prepared me for the danger we were clearly in, all to gain the favor of a shopkeeper and her discounts. I did not hold any specific prejudice against fae, since most all of them were gone from Tairos now, and any that remained must want peace as well, I hoped. But perhaps I could ask her if I am lucky enough to meet her again. In the meantime, I keep my promise to Alayla and point her in the direction of Ruby’s now empty inn outside of Ghal Pelor. The hag was dead by our hand so it would be a safe place for her, so long as she caused no harmful mischief. We’ll see what trouble comes our way for our dealings this day. The End for Now, ~Bayour S.
Rewards Granted
- Favor earned with Timepiece and discounts for her services and wares at her store, The Very Safe Magic Store
Missions/Quests Completed
- Timepiece's store cleared of squatters
- Savilla, Good Bill's mother, rescued from the Black Road
Character(s) interacted with
- Isolde Tremaris, owner of Arcane Bindings
- Ylva Vilulf, third generation Frostmerite and Isolde's best (only?) friend
- Dayne Reed
- Good and Bad Bill, former Throat Wolves
- Paris, Good Bill's father
- Savilla, Good Bill's mother
- Phyrae, drow elf far from home
- Alayla, a pixie freed from the Black Road
- The Raven Man, servant of the Autumn Queen
Related Reports
Notes
What consequences from Good Bill's parents meddling in the veil between our worlds? Could anything else have possibly escaped the Road, or must they be led out as we did with Alayla?
